


sometimes genius plans backfire

by hey_you_with_the_face



Series: Kinky SPN Bingo 2017 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Dubious Consent expanded on in below author's note), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bored Crowley, Crowley's Previous Lady Vessel, Dubious Consent, Evil Scheme gone wrong, F/M, Ladies Man Dean, Making Out, Multi, Oblivious Dean, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 11:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11873280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/pseuds/hey_you_with_the_face
Summary: Crowley is bored and the only surefire way to alleviate boredom in his book is...messing with the Winchester. This time, it's Dean's turn...





	sometimes genius plans backfire

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is for my Drowley Kink Bingo square but first, an explanation:
> 
> I wasn't sure how to tag this since in this story, Dean will consent to sleep with Crowley's former lady vessel (Marnie from episode 12x01 aka Suburban Orgy Lady) not knowing that Crowley is running the show with Marnie hanging in the background and Marnie will consent to letting Crowley use her body because she's hot for Dean's bod so there _is_ consent but yet there _isn't_. I decided to split the difference and go with 'dubious consent' but if enough people feel this isn't enough, I will gladly change it to full on 'rape/non-con'. Please let me know if you have any concerns.

It all started because Crowley was bored.

Listening to crying sops whine about why they thought they should get to be topside, who stole who’s torture victim and ‘so and so took my soul deal so I don’t deserve to be eviscerated’ was the absolute worst part of being the King of Hell. Crowley loved the power that came with being king, loved to be able to snap his fingers to see how high the morons would jump but sometimes it was downright tedious. Honestly, the only time he seemed to have any sort of fun lately was when he was granted an opportunity to harass those plaid wrapped monkeys.

But it had been weeks since the Winchester had called. 

“Please sire. I swear, I was not involved in that deal to sell souls on the black market,” said the demon currently sniveling before his throne. This one actually thought begging on his knees would help. 

Idiot.

Not even deigning to give such a pathetic plea the time of day, Crowley waved his hand imperiously for the whining twat to be taken away to whatever punishment he’d assigned him earlier. He also dismissed the rest of the court; there was just too much stupidity in the room and he didn’t have the stomach for it. Once the large double doors closed with a thud, Crowley’s mind wandered back to the Winchesters.

It really had been a long time since he’d harassed them. He couldn’t allow their egos to get too big; that just wouldn’t do. The question however was how to go about taking them down a peg. Lounging on his throne, he combed through the vast recesses of his brilliant mind for the best way to go about achieving his goal. 

He pondered finding a way to hit both Moose and Squirrel at the same time but nothing he could think of had the right amount of panache; everything was too predictable, too subpar. Crowley was in the mood for some ultimate humiliation; he needed to hit one of them where it would sting the most…

Oh...now there...there was a genius idea.

 

Several hours later, Crowley was striding into a skeezy low brow establishment on the hunt for one Dean Winchester.

He entered the bar and stood near the entrance, smoothing the front of his new temporary meatsuit’s dress. It was a short black little number that showed off the lady’s legs and...other assets, to perfection.

It hadn’t taken much more than showing Marnie a picture of Dean to get her to agree to his proposal. Yes, he had asked for permission, not that he’d ever admit it. This wasn’t a business venture, it was purely for personal enjoyment which meant he felt that this fell under special circumstances. 

Besides, it would be easier to enact his plan if he had an accomplice instead of a kicking and screaming consciousness in the background.

_Oh, is that him over there? At the end of the bar?_ Marnie said from her position in the mental backseat. Crowley heard her practically purr. _Mmm...that picture didn’t do him justice. He’s gorgeous._

“Remember the plan, duckie,” Crowley said softly, marginally distracted by his now smooth feminine voice. He started to walk towards where Dean sat, drinking a shot of what was probably cheap booze. “Help me snag that one and I’ll help you achieve that little fantasy of yours.”

_Believe me, that orgy is motivation enough_ , Marnie answered, _but I plan on enjoying every second of this. Now get over there and work it._

Rolling his eyes slightly, Crowley plastered on a winning smile and slid elegantly into the empty bar stool next to Dean. “Hey, handsome. Is this seat taken?”

Dean looked up from his drink, the slight moronic surprise on his face turning into a seductive smirk almost instantly as he saw Marnie. “Nope, but I would love if you remedied that situation, gorgeous.”

Crowley had to resist the urge to snort derisively at the over the top machismo that Dean poured into his words while Marnie sighed happily, clearly enjoying the attention even if it wasn’t technically being directed at her.

“Can I buy you a drink,” Dean asked, practically oozing charm. Crowley caught his eyes skating heatedly over Marnie’s body and preened; he’d definitely made the right choice for his meatsuit. “The name’s Dean by the way.”

“Marnie,” Crowley said with what he felt was a seductive smile. At Marnie’s suggestion, he uncrossed and recrossed his legs, feeling immensely satisfied when Dean’s eyes zeroed in on the motion immediately. “And yes, I would love that, Dean.”

Turning to signal the bartender, Dean gave Crowley a lazy smirk. Marnie stirred in the back of Crowley’s mind. 

_Oh, he’s hooked,_ she cooed happily, Crowley could picture the please look on her face (well, if he weren’t currently wearing it). _This is going to be like shooting fish in a barrel._

 

“So uh...not to be too forward or anything,” Dean said some time later as he leaned into Crowley’s personal space, “but what do you say to getting out of here?” 

His cheeks were flushed from the heat in the bar, highlighting the green of his eyes; Crowley only knew this because Marnie wouldn’t shut up about how ‘sexy’ Dean looked even though it was an obvious fact that even he could see. 

From an objective perspective of course.

_Hand on the thigh,_ Marnie ordered, not seeming to care that she was only riding shotgun. _Nice and light._

Placing a delicate hand on Dean’s muscled thigh, Crowley gave him a slow sexy smile. “I say, show me the way,” he purred. He was extremely pleased to see a rush of heat in Dean’s eyes. 

Crowley fought the urge to cheer in triumph as Dean stood up and, like the pathetic ‘gentleman’ that he was, helped Crowley off his stool. Dean lead him through the bar with a hand pressed lightly to the small of his back. They left the bar and climbed into the Impala; Dean explained that he was only passing through town but he had a hotel room just down the road.

His plan was working, really working. Crowley was ecstatic as he sat in the front seat of Dean’s precious car.

The hard part was done, he’d successfully picked up Dean Winchester without a single hitch. Now all he had to do was go back to whatever disgusting sewer of a motel Squirrel was staying at for the evening, let him ‘work his magic’ and then decide how best to humiliate him. There were so many options on how to drop the bomb that would allow Dean to realize he was doing the horizontal mambo with his favorite King of Hell but so far his favorite was calling him ‘Squirrel’ in the heat of the moment. 

This path would involve a bit of acting on his part since it was painfully obvious that Dean’s exploits were vastly over exaggerated. Crowley feared that poor Marnie was destined to be disappointed but that why he’d promised her that extremely large and...creative...orgy she wanted. She’d earned her prize and it didn’t seem fair to only reward her with subpar sex with Dean Winchester. Crowley would just have to lie back and think of Hell until the right moment.

It was doable. 

As soon as they were in the hotel room, Dean pulled Crowley to him and fit their mouths together; one hand rested firmly on the small of his back and the other slipped up into his long hair. Judging by the excited squeak let out by Marnie, she found this quite attractive; Crowley would grudgingly admit that it wasn’t horrible. As a crossroads demon, he’d definitely had worse kisses; Dean kissed strangely soft, something he hadn’t expected.

“Mmm, Dean,” Crowley sighed, deciding to jump into the deep end of his little act. He ran his hands over Dean’s body, caressing the muscle and slipping his hands under the loose t-shirt to brush skin. He smirked at the breathless gasp Dean let out when he dipped a hand teasingly down the front of his pants to toy at Dean’s underwear. 

The hand on his back slipped down to his hip and then down to the hem of his dress, the tips of the fingers just barely going underneath. Crowley rolled his hips forward into Dean’s, mainly to see if things were progressing in that particular department and to move things along. He wanted to get to the good part and not the good part Marnie was currently drooling over.

Dean started walking backward, pulling Crowley with him. He flipped their positions once they reached the bed and Crowley broke free of the heated frenzy of lips to sit down elegantly on the edge of the mattress. He raised an expectant brow, causing Dean to smirk.

“I guess it can be gentleman first, if that’s what you want,” he said, his voice getting lower as he pulled off his flannel (shocking, truly) overshirt and began peeling off his dark colored t-shirt. 

_Oh holy fuck! He’s even sexier with his clothes off, be still my ovaries,_ Marnie piped up. _I might just die when he takes his pants off, he’s obviously packing._

Crowley resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he was demon enough to admit that his eyes took in the sight of Dean’s muscled chest appreciatively. Yes, Dean _was_ attractive but that didn’t make up for his colossal idiocy and mountain of pathetic issues and an excellent physique didn’t mean that Dean was the legendary ladies man that he claimed to be. He would never admit that he was more that mildly impressed when Dean’s pants finally came off.

The satisfied groan that echoed through his head informed him that Marnie truly enjoyed what she saw and that was obviously the only reason that Crowley allowed an expression of appreciation tinged with anticipation form on his borrowed face.

“I’m glad I’m not disappointing you,” Dean said, his eyes half lidded as he stood on display. He was completely unselfconscious in his nudity and Crowley would only grudgingly acknowledge that the stupid squirrel really didn’t have a reason to feel uncomfortable. Dean sauntered forward and Marnie urged Crowley to slip of his heels and slide back, making room on the mattress for Dean between his legs.

Dean slid a hand down Crowley’s currently smooth thigh, until his broad hand disappeared under the fabric of his dress. He resisted the temptation to roll his eyes at the earnest look Dean gave him to ask for permission to remove the lacy panties underneath and instead nodded.

The panties disappeared in a few seconds and then that’s when Crowley’s plan began to fall apart.

You see, Crowley had been under the realistic impression that, for all of his bluster and overly masculine bragging, Dean Winchester was going to be like most average men in that he knew what he was doing when it came to sex but he didn’t _know_ what he was doing. That was a main part of this plan to humiliate Dean, to not only be able to lord the knowledge that he’d essentially slept with a man over his pretty head, but to be able to further ridicule him by informing everyone what a lousy lay he was. Unfortunately for Crowley, it seemed that one of his base assumptions was entirely incorrect.

Dean Winchester absolutely positively _knew_ what he was doing.

Once his underwear had been cast aside and the hem of his dress pushed up, it took Crowley a full minute or two to recover from the shock that was Dean practically lunging forward to bury his face between his thighs. Eventually he was able to come to terms with the fact that his original timetable might be slightly longer than he’d anticipated; apparently it wasn’t going to be as quick as Dean getting right to business followed by a wham bam thank you ma’am that lasted only a few minutes. What he was further unprepared for was how well Dean knew his way around female anatomy in that respect.

_Oh fuck!_ Marnie moaned, bringing Crowley’s attention away from the tingling heat that had started down in his nether regions. _Shit, he’s fucking perfect. I’ve never had a man go down on me like this. And look at his face, holy shit you can tell he’s so goddamn into it. Ohhh...that’s---that’s just fucking ama--amazing!!_

And Crowley, who’d been planning to stare at the ceiling until this charade was over, was indeed forced to agree with her as he stared down into the heated green eyes of Dean Winchester while he thoroughly proved that this was one area that he did have a certain amount of skill in. If an extra wave of heat rolled over him when Dean gave “Marnie” a sexy wink before closing his eyes and concentrating at the task at hand impossibly harder, Crowley was more than willing to blame it on Marnie herself.

Sound that Crowley had thought would have to be manufactured in order to maintain the facade were starting to fall past Crowley’s temporary lips. At first he didn’t quite register the fact that the soft gasps and feminine groans were coming from him until one of them sounded suspiciously like “Dean”.

“Mmmm...that’s it, baby,” Dean said, breaking through the haze Crowley had fallen into. He was kneeling between Crowley’s spread legs now, one hand underneath his little black dress high enough to massage one breast while his other hand fingered him. “Gonna come for me? Come on, do it. I wanna see.”

With Marnie’s voice crying out in the back of his mind and Dean’s shockingly intense gaze on him paired with the unfairly skilled hand working between his legs, Crowley couldn’t be blamed for the fact that he succumbed to the boiling pleasure that had built up. His legs unconsciously lifted up to wrap around Dean, making sure to keep him from pulling away as he rode out a shockingly intense orgasm on Dean’s fingers.

_Oh wow...that was fucking fantastic_ , Marnie panted. _Now what you want to do is---_

But Crowley was already on the move having already pushed Marnie to a far corner of his mind so he didn’t have her distracting him anymore and having apparently lost all sight of the plan as he reached up and pulled Dean down. Dean seemed shocked at first but smiled smugly as Crowley rolled him onto his back; his hard leaking cock on display. Once seated on Dean’s thighs, he quickly tore off the tiny black dress and reached down to stroke the stiff length. He was just about to get on his knees so he could straddle Dean just right when a strong hand gripped his smaller wrist.

“H-hold up there,” Dean said breathlessly, looking up at Crowley with eyes that sparkled with lust. “Not that I’m not super turned on by how excited you are but we’ve got to suit me up first.” He rolled slightly to one side and rummaged through the table and pulled out a condom that he skillfully opened and rolled on, sighing as he did so. Dean looked up and gave Crowley a heated smile. “There, we’re all ready to go.”

“Good,” Crowley huffed as he pushed Dean back down and rose up on his knees. He didn’t need the now absent commentary from Marnie to know that sinking down slowly onto Dean’s cock felt incredibly, and unfairly, nice. The deep moan that slipped from Dean’s mouth also didn’t help matters so that suddenly, Crowley found himself frantically bouncing his lap. 

Dean’s head was thrown back and his hands flew up to grip Crowley’s hips tightly as he rode him mercilessly. He adjusted his rhythm and angle slightly and Crowley cried out as an even deeper heat was triggered by this. Crowley’s toes curled as Dean took over, hitting that spot again and again and again until his shaking legs couldn’t keep up the brutal pace he started. 

Crowley let out a startled yelp as, in a burst of movement, Dean surged up powerfully and flipped them so that he could grip one of Crowley’s legs and hoist it up onto a broad shoulder. Later, Crowley would be embarrassed by how he’d began the breathy chanting of Dean’s name but at present, all he could focus on was the deep, powerful thrusts that were systematically dissolving his brain.

“Feel so good,” Dean panted into Crowley’s ear, “feel so good wrapped around my cock. Now sure how much---how much longer I’ll last, sweetheart.”

Nodding frantically, Crowley agreed; he was dancing on the edge again. This time the build was burning deeper and stronger but something was missing, something was holding him back just from the edge no matter how hard Dean pounded into him. It wasn’t until Dean groaned out his meatsuit’s name that he figured it out.

He wanted to hear Dean cry out his name.

“C-call my name,” he said, mind working frantically to come up with a way to get what he needed without revealing what was actually going on here. Crowley was too close to risk Dean finding out now and he needed to figure something out quickly; Dean’s thrusts were getting tighter and more jerky as he reached the same edge as him. “My whole name, please!”

Dean, forehead pressed to Crowley’s shoulder, nodded. “Anything, anything you want baby,” he said breathlessly, hips still straining. “Just-just tell me what it is.”

Crowley whispered the false name in Dean’s ear. He felt Dean stiffen for a split second as he said the second half of it and he feared that he’d pushed his luck too far but Dean only nodded and kept on fucking into him. Soon he began chanting the name Crowley had given him, every word being forced out in time with his rutting hips.

“Marina, Marina, Marina,” he panted, moving faster and faster. His movements getting short and shorter until his was grinding desperately. Dean buried his face into his shoulder. “Marina Crowley.”

As soon as his actual name passed Dean’s lips, Crowley came with a high piercing shout. Everything felt so hot and tingly and so fucking good he didn’t even care that he’d just practically begged one of his frenemies to unknowingly say his name during sex. A few desperate pumps later, Dean let out a choked groan as he came too; his body spasming powerfully between Crowley’s thighs and his abortive thrusts dragging out Crowley’s orgasm that much longer until he fell away to one side.

They lay there in silence, each cooling down, and as the heat of the moment began to dissipate Crowley’s mind cleared and he stared at the ceiling in what had to be comedic horror. This was _not_ how the plan was supposed to go. He had been determined to humiliate Dean Winchester by mocking his subpar sexual prowess and revealing at the worst possible moment that Crowley was the one running Marnie’s meatsuit but he had utterly failed to accomplish both things. 

_And the worst thing is_ , Crowley thought to himself later as he sat on his throne after he’d snuck out of a sleeping Dean’s hotel room, returned Marnie and her body home (leaving behind an envelope of cash and a business card that would allow him to hold up his end of their bargain), and returned to Hell, _I actually_ enjoyed _it. I enjoyed letting Dean Winchester fuck me into next week and hearing my name come out of that stupidly attractive mouth._

_And I want to hear it again…._

**Author's Note:**

> And there it is, another square down. :)
> 
> I will admit I agonized over this fic for quite some time due to the dubious consent/ non-con issue which was something I wish I had been able to avoid since I wanted this to be a funny, "Crowley doesn't realize what he's getting himself into story" but when you start getting into who's in whose meatsuit, things get complicated.


End file.
